


Two Days

by LillieWescott



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Rescue, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 12:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2652569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillieWescott/pseuds/LillieWescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth is kidnapped, and John has to rescue her.  First time Weir/Sheppard.  Originally published May 2005 on Wraithbait website.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Days

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in 2005 as a challenge to myself to see if I could: 1) write a romance story that was no more graphic than a trashy romance novel and 2) write a story that people would enjoy. "Two Days" was nominated for a Stargate Atlantis adult fanfiction award in 2006 and again several years later. Since then I've stuck mostly to writing non-explicit fanfic, under several different aliases, and I hope my writing has improved since then. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this. It was the first fanfic I ever posted online.

*  
 _  
"So unless she is particularly headstrong, or beautiful..."_

_John grimaced. "She's both."_

*

Elizabeth Weir was jarred awake, as she had been the previous night, with a jet of tepid water crashing over her skin. She retreated to the back wall as the custodian turned the blast of the power hose back and forth over the small cell she occupied. He hosed down the walls, stone floor and her body with the same air of disinterest than she'd seen zookeepers display when cleaning out animal cages. Her cell was really nothing more than a cage, a five by eight foot enclosure with three solid walls and a barred front. There was a drain in the floor and a water tap set in the wall. She'd been deprived of her uniform, but was grateful to have kept her underwear for modesty. On the other hand, she had a feeling that the custodian wouldn't care one way or another if she was clothed. He motioned her to turn around and she endured the pressure of the stream of water up and down her back and legs. It was humiliating, which she assumed was partly the point. She wiped her dripping hair out of her eyes and glanced sourly behind her at the custodian. She'd tried talking to him several times the first day of her captivity, and he'd responded by blasting her with the hose. He finished the wash down of the cell with a yawn and moved to his right, and on to the next cell, taking what light there was with him. 

Slicking the water out of her hair, she paced back and forth, stretching her limbs and savoring the cool wetness of her skin after the washing. It was a relief from the stagnant heat in the building. And at least she was clean. She almost laughed. "Thank goodness for the little things," she thought. She peered up at the dim light filtering in through the high window in her cell. The sun must have set several hours ago. She felt her stomach growl and she sighed. No food would be coming until the morning. She never thought her mouth would water so much at the mere thought of stale flatbread.

She rubbed absently at the small lumps under the skin of her inner left arm. If the tracking implant was working, and John's team was still on-planet, they should have found her by now. So either they were in trouble or she was out of their reach. She plied the soaked fabric of her tank top away from her skin. "Just got to hold on until they come," she murmured out loud, watching the last of the water swirl down the drain in the floor. "I just hope it's soon."

*  
John Sheppard rubbed at his eyes and willed himself to stay calm. He glanced at his watch and then went back to staring resolutely at the wooden door of the little room at the inn in which his team was trapped for the night. They had spent two days tracking Elizabeth to this settlement. More than two days that she had been a prisoner. 

He looked away from the door, aggravated that it was still closed, and studied his team. Teyla Emmagan was curled up on one of the beds resting her eyes, her long auburn hair spread around her. Young Lieutenant Aiden Ford was methodically going through his supplies, keeping busy. Doctor Rodney McKay was sitting opposite him, looking at his handheld tracking device and shaking his head, muttering to himself anxiously. 

When they had been ambushed a day's walk from the stargate, John hadn't initially been willing to waste time getting back to the gate to call for help or a jumper. The bandits that had taken Elizabeth had been riding clumsy, slow-moving creatures, and he should have been able to keep track of them. He couldn't understand why his team had been so quickly outdistanced. They'd finally been able to locate Elizabeth by following the signal from the subdermal transmitter chip that she - and all the members of the away teams from Atlantis - had received several weeks before. He mentally thanked Doctor Zelenka again for the idea, which had come after an Athosian child had gone missing on the mainland. He rubbed the implant area on his inner left arm. He liked the idea that he could keep track of his charges, and he was grateful they'd gone ahead with this trial.

He thought of the last time he had seen Elizabeth. They had just set up camp for the evening. Ford and Teyla had gone to a nearby stream for fresh water. Rodney was setting up a fire, mumbling grumpily to himself and John hadn't wanted to listen to him complain. As he'd walked over to Elizabeth, she had been leaning over her pack, rummaging through her gear. He'd taken an appreciative look at her as she'd bent over, and had grinned at the sight of the waistband of baby pink panties peeking out of the top of her charcoal grey pants. He'd wondered if all her underwear was pink. He liked the idea that she indulged her femininity underneath the sometimes brusque and always professional demeanor she presented in Atlantis. He'd snapped out of his musings when she'd straightened and turned to him. He'd given her his best innocent look. 

She'd rubbed at her neck, working out a kink. "Well, Major, this trip has been uneventful so far." Her eyes had sparkled in amusement. John had wondered if she knew he'd been checking out her backside. "Maybe I'll come along for more missions in the future." She waved her hands at the surrounding trees and hills. "This feels almost like a vacation."

John had enjoyed seeing her smile. "Well, come morning we only have a short walk and you'll be back to work. Enjoy it while it lasts."

Elizabeth had tilted her head and said, almost defiantly, "I can do that."

He'd grinned. 

When she'd agreed to attend an interplanetary conference here, he had realized a jumper would be the fastest and safest way to get her in and out of the meeting. But the locals were reportedly skittish of technology and Doctor Weir had decided that a day's walk on a green planet in the warm sunshine was a small price to pay if it would make the natives more comfortable. John had wanted to bring more men with him as protection for her, but she worried a large military force would intimidate the locals. They'd argued, but ultimately Elizabeth won. Like she usually did. 

On the upside, there was a part of him that had relished the idea that they would be relatively alone for the day, with none of the constant interruptions their busy schedules at Atlantis were usually plagued with.

They'd all enjoyed a quiet supper and had settled in for the night around a campfire. Teyla and Elizabeth had placed their rolls next to each other and had fallen asleep quickly. He'd taken first watch. He'd spent some of it glancing at the sleeping forms of the two women and repressing occasionally impure thoughts about them. Like he usually did.

Rodney had been on watch when the bandits hit them. He'd roused them with a shout and John, Aiden and Teyla had been instantly awake, weapons in hand. Their attackers wore dark clothes and brandished long staffs, the tips of which glowed with an ominous blue light. When the bandits rushed them with obvious ill-intent, John had been the first to fire. He had hit one of the men, who had clutched at his arm in surprise, and the rest of the riders had scattered. He'd watched them ride off on their gangly bovine mounts until their sounds had been swallowed into the darkness.

"Well that was pretty pathetic," Rodney had said with attempted bravado, his voice shaking slightly. "I guess they've never encountered firearms before."

Aiden had snickered. "What was pathetic were those animals they were riding. They sure don't move too fast. Crazy bandits riding a bunch of cows."

John had rolled his eyes and looked around. "I think you insult actual crazy people with that comparison, Ford." He'd called for Elizabeth into the darkness, "Doctor Weir, you can come out now." 

After a brief silence, Teyla had answered him. "Doctor Weir is gone." 

Rodney had gasped. "She got up and went to the stream before the, uh," he'd flapped his hand towards Aiden, "the cow-bandits got here."

"Break camp, now." John had hurried toward the water, anxiety rising. He'd searched for her frantically, and had found an area near the stream that was marked with broken underbrush and Elizabeth's jacket. They'd immediately set off after her, with Rodney using his modified lifesigns detector to follow her signal. After only a few hours, the signal had died. The bandits didn't seem to leave any trail, or if they had left a trail, the team was no longer near it. John had no choice but to backtrack to the gate and Atlantis to pick up a jumper. The tracking device wasn't adapted to work long-range overland, but with a jumper they should have been able to find her quickly.

It had taken almost an entire day to get back to Atlantis to pick up a jumper and more men and then another agonizing day of searching to pick up her signal again. The marauders had moved much faster than their clumsy mounts should have been able to move. They had managed to travel over 200 kilometers in the time they'd taken Doctor Weir. 

Rodney had speculated that the locals must have had access to faster vehicles and might not have been as mechanically naïve as they had seemed when they had attacked. 

"Yeah, I get that," John had replied bitterly. He hated being fooled by an enemy and their bad intelligence on the planet had cost Elizabeth her freedom.

By the time they had traced Elizabeth to this settlement it was near nightfall. John left a six-man squad with the ship, which now included Doctor Beckett. He prayed she wouldn't need the physician's attention, but the realist in him knew he'd better be prepared for the worst. Taking Teyla, Ford and McKay with him, he'd entered the settlement and found it an odd mixture of old and new. The city had scattered electricity, but the marketplace was crude and lit with lanterns. There was running water but no phones or radio. The citizens seemed unsurprised at the existence of offworlders, but remained wary. 

Once they'd arrived, they'd been stopped by the local police, disarmed, and had then endured one bureaucrat after another. It was fairly evident that Elizabeth had been taken by slavers and the townspeople they encountered seemed weirdly unconcerned that harm might have befallen her. Finally they'd been told, rather rudely, that business hours were over in the town and they'd been hustled off to this inn for the night. With Teyla's counsel, John had managed to suppress the urge to call in the cavalry, follow Elizabeth's signal and shoot whoever got in his way. Teyla had pointed out the numerous children and slaves that could be hurt in a skirmish, and had added that Doctor Weir would likely prefer he initially try a diplomatic approach. Regardless, he was certain he wouldn't last another day of diplomacy without having Elizabeth back. He wasn't impressed by the way the locals treated their women, and it sickened him that she was at their mercy. 

To be fair, the entire team was anxious for Doctor Weir. She was intelligent, brave and resourceful, but they all knew she was in a situation that she might not be able to talk her way out of. Images of Elizabeth crying out, being tortured or raped had come to him every time he closed his eyes. 

John sighed and told Rodney to put his gear away and get some sleep. Ford would take first watch. John rolled onto his back, closed his eyes and willed himself to rest. He hadn't slept well since this began, and he doubted Rodney had slept much either. He knew Rodney cared for Elizabeth as much as he did. Which was more than was probably proper. John thought of Elizabeth's gentle smile in the sunlight two days before. His stomach churned at the thought of someone touching her against her will. It was more than just his usual drive to protect the people of Atlantis. He felt a definite possessiveness of Elizabeth he knew he had no right to have. 

 

*  
As the morning rays crept through the tiny window high in her cell, Elizabeth sank down against the wall to give herself the pep talk she'd been giving herself since this nightmare had begun. She'd been attacked at the team's camp when she had gotten up in the middle of the night to answer the call of nature. As she was washing up, a rough hand had clamped over her mouth. It seemed only moments before she was gagged and her captors had torn off her jacket. Two men had held her while the third had opened her shirt and pored over her neck and upper back. They'd grunted to each other, bound her hands behind her, and slung over the back of a particularly smelly animal that looked like a distorted buffalo on stilts. As she rode away from the stream with her captors she had startled at the brief sound of gunfire. Her heart had hammered in fear for her people and she had prayed for their safety.

In retrospect she partly blamed herself for the situation. John had been insistent that they take a jumper or a bigger ground force to the conference. She had been adamant about coming to the planet with a light contingent. She admitted that part of her had looked forward to a quiet day of hiking in the company of John and his team. Had her adolescent thoughts about Major Sheppard and affection for his team colored her decision to travel light? She reasoned it wasn't the case, but she couldn't bear the thought they might be hurt because of her decision. She also knew the team, and John in particular, would be desperate with worry for her. 

She traced her finger over the lump under her skin where the transponder had been placed three weeks before. Only a short ride from the camp, the bandits had loaded their animals onto some sort of gliding transport. They'd reached this city before morning and Elizabeth knew the tracking device had a limited range. She reasoned that John had to have time to catch up with her, and hoped he was able to contact Atlantis for help. Unfortunately, her conviction that he was on her trail didn't make the time pass any more quickly.

She looked down at the darkening bruises and welts where her captors had pressed their electrified staffs against her skin. The first day here, she found the bandits and the slave master completely unmoved by her attempts to reason with them. She'd changed tactics, and tried to go along with their demands, but they never seemed satisfied by the speed at which she attempted to comply. When she'd made an effort to explain she'd been rewarded with more stabs with the prod. To her rising terror, she'd found her vision fading and her ears ringing with every shock she received. After a seemingly endless session, she'd been thrown back into her cell, blind and deaf. It seemed hours before her vision and hearing gradually returned and she finally fell asleep. The next morning, it started over again.

Today was her third day. She promised herself she would hold on, because John would come for her. He had to.

*

John clenched his jaw and raked his hands through his hair in frustration, glaring at the administrator with barely restrained rage. He knew Elizabeth was only a few blocks away now, but they'd been surrounded by a dozen or so members of the local police force since the time they were allowed to leave the inn this morning. The constabulary brandished staffs much like those of the bandits. But he thought Rodney had probably been wrong about the firearms, as the locals had recognized them as weapons and had immediately relieved his team of their P90s upon entering the town. He reflected that it was probably just as well, because it helped suppress his ungodly urge to shoot every man, woman, and family pet blocking his way to Elizabeth. 

He sucked in a deep breath and assessed this latest, and supposedly highest-ranking administrator they had been brought before to tell their story. He'd already decided this was the last one he was going to talk to, and then he was going for the cavalry plan – the hell with what Elizabeth would say. "I really don't think it is a good idea to hold us here any longer, Councilman. My people are waiting for us to return, and you really don't want a squad of my men dropping by."

"If you like, Major Sheppard, I can intercede with the keepers to see if we can arrange an inspection for you." The official adjusted his linen collar and looked nervously at the four foreigners, most curiously at the woman. He shook his head again in disbelief at her presence.

John had run out of patience. "What do you mean, an inspection?"

The councilman smiled patiently. "It is clear this woman you are looking for was not properly marked or registered. You have no legal claim over her person."

John heard a snort behind him. Rodney stepped forward. "This is outrageous. Your people kidnapped her and took her into slavery. We don't need to have a legal claim over her; she has claim over herself!"

The Councilman pursed his lips. "I understand that you are strangers here, and your ways are extremely..." he gazed pointedly at Teyla, "unusual. But the people of our city are all marked on their upper spines at birth and registered to prevent this kind of situation from occurring." He motioned up towards the tattoos visible on his own neck. "Unless someone from her immediate kindred can come forward with some kind of documentation..."

John cut him off. "She's my wife."

Teyla and Aiden looked at each other and back at John. Rodney raised his finger, "Uh..."

"My wife," John repeated firmly. "She is under my protection and I intend to get her back. Now you can either bring her to us right now, or I am going to go get her."

It had occurred to John that if these people were similar to some cultures on Earth, the women were, for all practical purposes, owned by either their fathers or husbands. He wasn't going to let Rodney get involved because, well, Rodney was a terrible liar. 

The Councilman looked at him appraisingly. "Why haven't you mentioned this before?"

John glared back at him. "Well, nobody mentioned it was relevant. Where we come from all women have their own identity, and as Doctor McKay said, have legal claim to their own bodies."

"I assume you have some proof of this marriage?"

John balled his fist and answered through a clenched jaw. "You know, I don't usually carry our marriage license around with me." 

"This is all very unusual."

John ground his teeth in frustration. Appeasing these bureaucrats was beyond him. Not for the first time, he wished Elizabeth was here. Even if these people didn't recognize women as having any worth, he had no doubt she could negotiate the pants off of any of these paper pushers.

His increasingly murderous thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice. "Major Sheppard." John turned to Teyla. Once the team had caught on to the societal peculiarities of this city, Teyla had stopped speaking to any of the locals, and instead addressed only Rodney, Aiden or himself. She'd said that this was not the first such culture she'd encountered, and that she'd found it impossible to work past their prejudices. She preferred to act the role of a submissive woman until they left, "Permanently," she had emphasized with distaste. He smiled at the memory.

"Yes, Teyla."

"Perhaps we should agree to this 'inspection' he spoke of. We could at least determine whether she is uninjured."

The official waved his hand dismissively at Teyla. "I am quite sure she is unharmed. The Master Keeper is well-known for selling only highest-quality merchandise. He does not abuse his wares."

John's anxiety lifted for a moment. "How long do we have before he would try to sell her?"

"The market is open daily, but Master Keeper usually sells new domestics only at the end of the phase...that is in about 4 days. Besides, he will need time to train her, especially if she is new to her station."

Fear for Elizabeth settled back down onto John's soul with an almost audible thud. His mouth worked silently for a moment while he tried to think of a diplomatic way to rip off the administrator's head.

Rodney drew in a sharp breath. "What kind of training are we talking about? Would she be ...uh, sexually molested by this...keeper person?"

John and Aiden both stiffened and looked hard at the Councilman. Teyla's mouth tightened. The administrator cleared his throat nervously. "Perhaps it would be best if we just made our way down to his facility."

John ached to see Elizabeth as soon as possible, but his instincts had all started screaming when the councilman had talked about training. He lowered his voice, and said with menace, "Would they put their hands on her?"

The Councilman straightened his tunic and met John's eyes. "All servants need to learn their place, Major Sheppard. Most females are examined to determine their...status." He faltered and glanced nervously at Rodney and Ford, who had become grim. He hastened to add, "But as I said, the Keeper does not abuse his wares. It would be unlikely he would harm or...touch her in any way. So unless she is particularly headstrong, or beautiful..."

John grimaced. "She's both." 

There was a pause. The administrator beckoned his security people closer and cleared his throat again. "I think it is best if we go immediately to the Keep and get this affair sorted out.

*  
Elizabeth's body jerked in response to the shock and she gasped in pain. Light sparkled in front of her eyes and her ears rang with a high-pitched whine.

"I'm sorry, Master" she croaked out. "I am trying my best."

"You don't move fast enough."

"I am sorry, Master."

She glanced up at her tormentor. He was probably about her age, tall and burly, with a shock of red hair that reminded her of Woody Woodpecker. He had a sun-weathered complexion, but a boyish face that seemed out of place with his bear-like body. He frowned at her when he met her eyes.

"What have I told you about not looking into the eyes of your betters?" he growled and jabbed the training prod into her shoulder. Her back arched in pain and her shriek caught in her throat. "What do you say?"

She grabbed at her shoulder and murmured, "I am sorry, Master."

He grunted. "You are the most useless woman I have ever had the misfortune to train. Is there anything you are good for?"

They'd had this conversation several times. Elizabeth had tried to come up with a list of skills but he hadn't been interested in any of them. She was getting a feeling that the question was a rhetorical one.

The Keeper grunted again, looked at the household utensils Elizabeth had been unable to successfully use and sighed. "Well, you are a bit old, but I suppose we could see if you would be of any use in a brothel."

Elizabeth stiffened. If she wasn't completely terrified she might have been insulted. But this is what she had dreaded might happen. John would never forgive himself if she were raped. She stammered, "I don't think I can do that sort of thing...Master."

He snorted. "Any woman can do that sort of thing." He grabbed her by the back of the neck and looked her up and down. "You might not do so badly." He pulled her up against him and roughly pressed his right hand against her breast. "Not bad. A little thin." He began pulling the hem of her tank top upwards in an impersonal, rough way that filled her with panic.

Elizabeth had promised herself she would do her best to go along with her captors but her temper and terror flared when she felt his hand snake down her side. She pushed him hard and backed away from him angrily. "Take your hands off of me!"

The Keeper looked at her thoughtfully. "Well, not so meek after all. But stupid." He picked up the prod and lifted some chains from a hook on the white-washed wall and stalked towards her.

In a flash he had jerked her around and cuffed her hands behind her. The manacles had squared edges and she winced as they dug into the skin of her wrists. 

"Don't..." she started and he pressed the prod against her side. And he held it there. Lightning pain shot across her ribs and her body arched in protest as her breath was stolen from her. She writhed against his grip as he pressed the prod into her. 

"I didn't ask you to speak. Now, let's try this again." He pulled the prod away and he grabbed her by the upper arm, wheeling her around to push her forward over a metal table set near the wall. 

Elizabeth tried to breathe, but she felt her chest muscles spasm in aftershocks of the pain. As a child she'd been punched in the solar plexus by a bully and she remembered this same sensation, and the panic. And the pain. After what seemed like an eternity of trying, she finally was able to suck in a shallow gasp. As she struggled to breathe, she tried to straighten back up and realized he had shackled her feet while she had lain gasping on the table's surface like a fish in a net. She panted, "What are you..."

And she bucked again in agony as he pressed the prod into her thigh. Lights flashed in her vision and the rushing sound in her ears intensified. 

The keeper pulled the prod away and spat. "You talk too much. Maybe you just need to get used to not talking." 

It was getting difficult to see, and so she had no warning when the Keeper pushed the gag into her mouth. She choked and shook her head as she felt him fasten and lock the strap in place behind her. The Keeper snorted. "I think you really do better this way. I should advise your buyer to cut out your tongue. It will make his life much simpler."

His threat would have added to her alarm, but Elizabeth could barely hear him now over the buzzing and crackling in her ears. She groaned as she felt the prod press into her again, this time into the small of her back. Stabbing agony ran up and down the length of her spine and she jerked and twisted as the muscles of her back contracted in protest. She thought she might be screaming, but she couldn't hear even herself anymore. Her convulsions began to subside as she felt the Keeper's hands roam over her breasts and then press down over her stomach. She gagged with revulsion as his hand slipped down into the front of her panties. John would never forgive himself if she let this happen.

She urged her aching body to jerk away from the offending hands and she felt the bite of the metal around her wrists and ankles as she did so. She was suddenly and violently pushed forward again over the table and his hands were gone for a moment, throwing her off-balance. She fought frantically to maintain her equilibrium, the soles of her shackled feet slipping on the smooth stone of the floor, and she began toppling downward. She hit the bench and would have slid down to the floor but she felt hands catch her and right her again on her bound legs. Then she felt a second pair of hands grab her shoulders and she stiffened. All the anguish and terror of the last few days welled up in her and she flooded with anger. "This may be hopeless," she thought, "but I am not going to let these bastards gang rape me without a fight."

*

"Is there any way we can hurry this along?" John's voice was icy now. They were at the Keep but they were being stalled by a custodian who had told them the Master Keeper was busy and that they would have to wait.

The man spread his hands. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you inspect any of the wares unless I have the approval of the keeper."

Rodney turned to John and pointed to the handheld detector he'd been monitoring Elizabeth's signal with. "She's here. She is right here! This is ridiculous. She's not a hundred feet away." He turned toward the custodian. "Where is this Keeper person anyway? This is a matter of interplanetary peace!"

The custodian licked his lips and looked warily at John and his team, and then at the Councilman and the security guards crowding the small room.

"Who exactly is this woman, again?"

John stepped up and bent his face towards the custodian. He spoke in a low voice, but with unmistakable menace. "My. Wife. She would have been brought to you in the last two days. Brown hair, big green eyes. No tattoos or marks. Probably tried to talk you into letting her go. Now, are you going to lead me to her, you little toad, or am I going to pull your spine out through your face?" 

"So much for diplomacy," muttered Rodney, eyes intent on his handheld. "Uh, the signal is fluctuating. That can't be good." His voice cracked in rising panic. "Elizabeth's signal is sputtering. Not good. This is bad. This could be very bad." 

John glared into the custodian's eyes and said evenly, "Either get your boss right now, or my team and I, and a large number of heavily armed men are going to go and get her. Right. Now."

The custodian's eyes went wide, and looked from John to the Councilman. The administrator cleared his throat. "Where is the Keeper?"

"He's...he's in the middle of a training session...but he can't be disturbed."

"That's it," John said, his voice tight. He had a bad feeling about who was being trained. He reached for his radio and switched it on. "This is Sheppard, come in." 

Carson Beckett's thick brogue answered through a burst of static, "Aye, Major, go ahead." 

"We are in the facility where Doctor Weir is being held. Bring the ship in and be ready for hostilities. If you don't hear back from us in five minutes come and get us." John glared at the administrator as he spoke. "The locals have electrified melee weapons only. Use lethal force if necessary."

"Aye, Major, we're coming."

"Sheppard out."

John turned on his heel and pushed his way passed the stunned administrator and guards, slapping their weapons out of his way with impatience. "Rodney! Which way?" 

Rodney looked down at his handheld. "I would guess down that first hallway on your right...I mean left. Left!" He called after John and then pushed his way after him, closely followed by Teyla and Ford.

John broke into a run and he heard sounds of confusion behind him. He wasn't going to let the guards gather their wits before he had his hands on Elizabeth. He rounded the corner and began jogging down a narrow dark corridor lined with barred cells, glancing anxiously at the few huddled occupants within. At the end of the hall, light poured out of an open doorway and through it he heard a muffled shriek. A massive, red-headed man was jamming one of those electrified staffs into the spine of a woman whose body was mostly hidden from John's view. John broke into a sprint as he saw the man put aside the prod to fondle the struggling, bound and gagged form of his prisoner. Anger roiled up into fire as John saw the man's hand slip into the waistband of the captive woman's panties. They were baby pink.

John roared as he burst through the door, wrenching the man away from Elizabeth and slamming him against the wall. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his own ears as he pounded his fists into the man's face in rage. His only thought was to kill this man, this animal who had hurt her. Somewhere, at the edge of his consciousness, he heard the rest of his team catch up with him, shouting as they entered the room. They'd take care of Elizabeth while he killed this bastard. 

John was still in a red haze of fury when the security guards hauled him off of the Keeper's now motionless body. A muffled cry sobered him instantly and he saw Elizabeth struggling wildly with Rodney and Teyla as Ford stood tensely protective over them. John winced as Elizabeth threw her head back to slam Rodney in the face while screaming muffled obscenities at him. Rodney lurched backwards and Teyla and Aiden fought to hold Elizabeth's writhing body as she kicked and clawed at them. Her eyes were wide over her gag and John saw trickles of blood running down her hands and feet where the cuffs were tearing into her wrists and ankles. 

John struggled with the guards holding him and he willed himself into control. "I'm okay, I'm okay," he panted. "Let me go to her. Let go of me!" The Administrator nodded to the guards and John shrugged out of their grip. He felt light-headed with anger and anxiety and he half-staggered over to Elizabeth's side. 

John took hold of her head and tried to turn her face towards his own. "Elizabeth, we're here, you're safe now." He raised his voice and shouted, "Elizabeth!?" Her rounded eyes roved wildly back and forth past him and she gave no sign of hearing him. Although they had her crowded between their four bodies, the team couldn't keep her still enough to calm her. 

Teyla hissed. "She is injuring herself in her struggles."

John grimaced in frustration and nodded to his team. They swung Elizabeth's hobbled legs up onto the table and pinned her to its surface on her back as she continued to thrash against them. John looked up at Rodney's horrified expression across the table. "What's the matter with her?"

Rodney shook his head as he pressed down on Elizabeth's upper arms, speaking rapidly. "It might be some sort of post-traumatic shock or brain-washing or drug or something but I don't think she can hear or see us." She was bucking and twisting wildly against them and she was cursing them with all her might through the gag. John leaned his torso down over hers, pressing her thighs down with his forearm to try to quiet her as Rodney struggled with her shoulders, and Teyla steadied her head. Aiden moved down to hold her legs. The cursing intensified. 

John turned his head toward the custodian gaping in the doorway. He had a few choice curses of his own. "What the hell did you do to her?"

The custodian stammered. "The training rods...sometimes they dazzle the eyes and ears." He held his hands up, "It is temporary. It usually lasts only a few minutes." His eyes were round as he continued. "But, I think she had a reaction to it...she was taking a few hours to recover most days..."

"Most days?!" John bellowed. "Get your ass over here right now and unlock these cuffs before I make sure you spend most days without your eyes and ears!"

The custodian blanched and scurried in. As they rolled Elizabeth to her side the intensity of her efforts to wrench away from them heightened and John groaned as he saw her wrists take more damage. Rodney grabbed her hands and tried to hold them still. Despite her debilitated condition, Doctor Weir was putting up one hell of a fight. "Go get 'em, Lizzie," John thought as he watched her struggle. He was in agony over her plight but couldn't help feeling a tinge of pride at her spirit. After what she'd been through he'd half-expected to find her broken and weeping. He should have known better.

Once her hands were free, Rodney leaned across the table and grabbed her left wrist and John grabbed her right. They both pressed her arms to her sides and held down her shoulders as best they could. Aiden wrestled with her legs and they soon were able to get her completely immobilized again. Teyla held her head while the custodian bent to unlock her gag. Elizabeth finally quieted and went completely rigid, her chest heaving. She coughed and choked as the gag was removed and her eyes continued to drift around warily.

John bent over her, "Elizabeth, can you hear me?" She didn't respond to him and he could feel the strain of her muscles against him.

"How can we let her know it's us?" Ford asked anxiously, his hand pressed down on Elizabeth's knees as the custodian unlocked the bloodied shackles around her ankles.

"Maybe we can use palm-writing." John looked back at Rodney. Rodney blinked and waved his little fingers without letting go of Elizabeth's shoulder. "You know, Helen Keller?"

John let out an exasperated sigh, "I know who Helen Keller was, Rodney. What does that have to do..."

Rodney rolled his eyes, interrupting him. "Well, then maybe you also know she communicated with people by signing letters of the alphabet onto their palms. Maybe if we can get her to calm down enough we can, you know, sign or write on her hands...or something."

John looked down at his left forearm, which was braced over Elizabeth's chest and at his right hand clasped around her right wrist. "Okay. I'm going to let go of her shoulder. Hang on."

Rodney pressed a forearm against Elizabeth's upper chest and pressed down. She let out a moan, "No...," and John could feel the tension in her body as she renewed her efforts to writhe against them. John took her protesting right arm and straightened it out, and then took her hand and stretched it out towards his own jacket. She twisted her hand against his grasp and frantically gritted out, "No!" Her wrist was slick with sweat and blood and it grieved him that he had to grip it so tightly. He began to draw on her palm.

She caught her breath and then after a moment began to speak tensely, so softly he had to lean over to catch her words. Rodney leaned in as well. "What are you doing? I can't see you. I can't hear you. I don't know what you want me to do." She swallowed heavily. "...Master."

John looked up at Rodney's stricken expression knew he wasn't the only one whose heart had lurched when she said the word. "Hang on, Elizabeth, we've got you," he said gently. He decided to change tactics. He twisted his torso towards her and guided her hand towards the Atlantis patch on his right shoulder. He let her trace her fingers around his shoulder and then the patch. She left streaks of blood where her hand had been.

She tried to pull her arm away from him and clenched the hand he was holding into a fist. "I don't understand. Who are you? I can't see." She paused. "Wait, are you the Keeper?" He felt her arm relax slightly and he knew he had at least distracted her, aroused her curiosity. 

"Try letting her do the writing," Rodney offered. "Get her to trace out some letters."

"Like what?" John said with irritation.

"I don't know," Rodney said impatiently. "She wants to know who you are. Write your name."

John nodded and turned Elizabeth's hand towards his own chest. He gripped her hand firmly and forcibly extended her index finger, curling the other fingers into her palm. He then took her forefinger and began tracing out large block letters on his own chest: "S...H...E...P..." He grimaced at the streaks of blood she was leaving on his jacket. "Wait," she said suddenly, "Those are English letters. How do you know... please, start over." Her forehead furrowed in concentration. He could feel her trembling and he loved her for her courage.

He began again and she repeated the letters as he traced them. As he finished the "D" she exclaimed, "Sheppard? Major Sheppard? John?"

He pulled her hand to his the side of his face and neck and nodded so she could feel his assent. She passed her hand along the line of his jaw, feeling the stubble of beard he'd been too harried to shave away. Her face contorted in confusion, and the team apprehensively watched the movement of her hand. She passed her thumb across John's lower lip and he tasted the metallic tang of her blood. The wrath began to surge up in him again but then she glided her hand up to his ear. He felt her trace the contour of the edge of his ear several times, back and forth over its tip. She gasped, "It really is you, John, isn't it?" She slid her hand back down to rest on the side of his face.

He nodded and smirked, "Well, well. My freaky ears finally came in handy for once."

Rodney nodded, "Well, they're certainly unique."

"Shut up, Rodney."

Ford let out a chuckle as they all relaxed their grips on Elizabeth's body. She had stopped struggling. John glanced at Teyla, still cradling Elizabeth's head, and sobered at her fierce expression.

"We have to get Doctor Weir away from here, and attended to," she said. "I do not think these men are going to be easy to deal with."

John looked up to see the Councilman and custodian standing grimly in the doorway. He decided to ignore them and focused back on Elizabeth. She looked towards her right hand, still pressed against the side of his face, and whispered. "Is your team here with you?" He nodded. "Rodney?" Rodney patted her shoulder and Elizabeth grasped his hand with her left one, turning towards him, eyes searching. She turned her head back towards John. "Are you also prisoners here?"

John shook his head. She let out a quick breath and then pulled his head closer and whispered so softly and quickly he could barely make out the words. "I knew you'd come. Thank you." John began to shake his head in protest but she continued and he strained to hear her. "Major, I can't see or hear at all. I don't know what is going on or who is here with us. I am going to slow you down a lot if we go now, but if it's possible, please, John, take me home. Get us all out of here." He nodded his understanding and then, after a brief pause, he glanced at the Councilman and his aides and brushed his lips against Elizabeth's forehead. He took her forefinger and pressed it to her lips. She nodded understanding and whispered, "I'll be quiet." 

He squeezed her hand for reassurance, and keyed his radio with his free hand. "Beckett, what is your status?" He looked back at the administrator, who was standing in the doorway looking with horror at the corner of the room where the crumpled form of the Keeper was being examined by the custodian and his guard. 

The radio crackled. "We are immediately outside your location and are ready to go."

"Stand by." John met the eyes of the administrator. "I think we will be leaving now."

The custodian spoke from where he knelt by the warden. "Sir, the Keeper is still alive."

"More's the pity," John said loudly and without remorse, maintaining his gaze on the Councilman. "He put his hands on my wife. He should be dead. But, I don't have time to fix that now. Councilman, please ask your men to stand aside."

Running footsteps approached the room and a harried young officer approached the councilman. "Your pardon, sir, there is some kind of big alien transport sitting in the courtyard of the Keep. We've surrounded it but it hasn't done anything so far. Uh..." The officer's gaze passed over uncertainly at the chaotic scene in the room and then back to the bureaucrat. "Sir, what do you want us to do?"

The administrator looked at John appraisingly in silence for a moment and then he said, "Is this matter settled?"

John sucked in a breath. In his mind, the best way to settle this affair would be to kill every slaver here, set all the prisoners and the women free and destroy their stargate. He looked down at Elizabeth, still staring up in fear with her unfocused, lovely green eyes. She probably wouldn't go for it. He smiled grimly and gently brushed her hair from her forehead with his free hand. 

He sighed. "You know, this wouldn't be settled, but my wife doesn't like violence, and I tend to indulge her. This is how we settle this. Your men get out of our way. My team and I take my wife out of here and onto our transport. I don't order my men in the ship outside to come barreling in here and kill everybody they see. My entire group leaves and we never set foot on your lousy planet again."

The radio hissed again. Beckett's voice was agitated. "Major Sheppard, do you need our assistance?"

Sheppard raised an eyebrow and looked challengingly at the administrator. The Councilman pursed his lips. "That won't be necessary. Leave now to never return, and we will not hinder you."

Ford cleared his throat. "What about our weapons?"

The administrator waved his hand to one of the security guards. "Run outside and tell the captain to retrieve the confiscated belongings of the foreigners. Bring them to us immediately." The guard took off at a run. He looked back gravely at John. "Do you want us to attend to her wounds?"

John looked down at Elizabeth. She suddenly looked very small, in her grey tank top and pink panties, with welts and bruises peppering the skin of her bare arms and legs. He frowned at the oozing raw cuts on her wrists and ankles and at that moment all he wanted was to get her to a safe place. He gently pulled her hand away from his and slipped his arms underneath her body. She let go of Rodney's hand and wrapped her arms around John's neck, burying her face in his jacket. He straightened up and walked stiffly toward the door with Elizabeth in his arms. "No, Councilman, we'll take care of her. Thanks for your help."

Rodney glanced around the room and saw a neatly folded pile of grey and maroon fabric and small articles tucked into a small cubbyhole. He swept them up, announcing, "These are her belongings, and I will be taking them with us now." He walked after John, chin high. Teyla and Ford followed silently, their eyes watchful as they backed out of the room and into the hallway to follow. 

As John walked down the corridor towards the outer door he tried not to look at the occupants of the cells he passed. "Nothing I can do about it," he told himself. "Just get to the jumper and we'll figure it out from there." He looked down at Elizabeth, who was holding on to him for dear life. He could feel tremors going through her arms and legs and a shudder passed through her. He heard her gasp, and he craned his head down to look at her. Her eyes were shut and her mouth twisted as he saw a tear squeeze out between her lids. 

He hugged her slightly in reassurance. She gulped air and whispered, "I'm sorry." 

"Typical", he thought. "She's the victim but is taking responsibility for it." He pressed his cheek down against her hair. He knew she couldn't hear him but he murmured, "I got you now, Lizzie. I'm taking you home." He wished he had the time to cover her up before he got to the jumper. He knew how much her dignity meant to her. But right now he just needed to get her safe.

He blinked into the sunlight as he stepped into the courtyard. The security guards and policemen now numbered in the dozens, but they moved out of his way as he walked toward the jumper. There were murmurs of surprise in the crowd as the back hatch of the ship opened and Beckett leaned out. Three marines leapt out, weapons drawn, and jogged over to escort John to the ship as two others stood in alert by the hatch. John nodded to his men and scanned the crowd warily as he carried Elizabeth across the cobblestone pavement. He glanced behind him to see his team following him outside. The guard he had seen earlier ran up to Ford, breathless, holding the P90s, pistols and knife belts that had been taken from them earlier. A grim-faced Beckett reached his arms out for Elizabeth as he neared but John shook his head slightly at him and stepped past him and into the jumper with her still in his arms. 

He settled down onto one of the side seats in the back with Elizabeth in his lap as the rest of his people boarded the jumper. Ford punched the hatch shut. John looked up at Carson and then over at Rodney. "McKay, get us out of here."

Rodney was holding his hand over his cheekbone where Elizabeth had head-butted him. He did a double take. "What, really? Me?"

"Just take off, any direction, fly about a dozen miles or so and then put us down." He reconsidered. "Or hover. Whatever is easier. Just get us away from here. Can you do that without crashing us?"

"Ah. Very funny. Of course I can."

"I need to stay here with Doctor Weir for a few minutes, and Beckett needs to look at her. Just get us going. I'll take us back through the gate."

Rodney's eagerness faded as he gave a concerned glance down at Elizabeth. "Right. Got it." He sidled past the other men and toward the cockpit. 

John looked up at Ford, "Go with him."

Ford nodded solemnly and edged torwards Rodney and out of view. Teyla moved forward with a blanket to cover Elizabeth, glanced at John and said quietly, "She will be fine now," and then turned to follow Ford. 

Moments later, the engine purred to life and the villagers outside the ship fled the courtyard as the jumper lurched straight upward, wobbled momentarily and then shot away. 

The men in the rear compartment settled as best they could to give Beckett room to work. He opened his medical pack and crouched in front of Elizabeth. His eyes swept over her injuries and the ragged state of her dress. He looked up at John, whose eyes mirrored his own concern. "Has she lost consciousness?"

John felt the iron grip Elizabeth still had on his neck and shook his head. "But they tortured her with some kind of electrical device." Several of his men spat low curses. John looked back down at her face. "Somehow it's made her blind and deaf. They said it was temporary, but she can't hear or see at all." 

Beckett sucked in air and reached his hand out to her shoulder. He drew it back hurriedly when Elizabeth flinched and hunched closer to John. John reached around and drew out her right arm and formed her hand into a point again. He traced out the word "SAFE" on the front of his jacket. She reached to feel his jaw and neck and whispered, "We're safe now?" He nodded. He took her hand again and wrote "JUMPER". She repeated the letters and blurted out a whisper, "Oh, thank God, we're in a jumper," as she visibly sagged with relief. Beckett watched the process with apprehension. 

He looked up at John. "Can you tell her I am here?"

John nodded, not taking his eyes off of Elizabeth's face. He traced out "BECKETT" and Elizabeth straightened, her eyes roving outwards. "Doctor Beckett?" John took her hand and placed it in Carson's. She clasped it. "I don't know how you got here, but thank you for coming." 

If John's nerves hadn't been so strained, he probably would have laughed out loud in relief. He had to hand it to "never-let-'em-see-you-sweat" Elizabeth Weir. She knew how to pull herself together. Half-naked, bloodied and bruised and she already was back in control. He finally felt safe to leave her. John took her hand back from Carson and carefully traced "JOHN FLY SHIP" on his now completely ruined jacket. She swallowed deeply. "I understand. Major, you'll fly the jumper. Doctor Beckett will take care of me." 

John put her hand on his cheek and nodded. She nodded in return and he gently lifted her off of his lap to sit beside him, arranging the blanket over her lap. She held on to him until Beckett had taken his place on the bench, and then he pried her fingers from his arm and placed them in Beckett's hand. As he let go of her, he felt a tumbling in his gut, and the desire to pick her up again and hold her was overwhelming. "Safety first, John," he thought to himself, and he stepped around his men and hurried to the front of the ship to rescue them all from Rodney's piloting.

*

Back in the infirmary, John shifted in his chair and gazed at Elizabeth's face, finally peaceful in sleep. Once Beckett had finished his exam and gotten Elizabeth cleaned up and bandaged, he'd given her a sedative and she'd managed to drift off. She'd held John's hand from the time the jumper had landed in Atlantis, and for once, Beckett had allowed John to be in his way. She had even asked him to stay as Beckett examined her body for wounds. John had tried not to look, he really had. But every bruise and welt that turned up made his gut clench up worse than before, and he felt compelled to see what had happened to her. When Beckett had begun to undress her, Elizabeth had pulled John's head close and pressed his forehead against her own. He'd gotten the message. "Stay, but don't watch." Beckett had covered Elizabeth with a drape for modesty, and she had endured the exam silently. She had kept a death grip on John the entire time. John hadn't had the courage yet to ask Carson what he'd discovered. His apprehension over her assault made him so uneasy he knew he'd have to get an answer soon. 

But now her face was tranquil, her lips slightly parted. He didn't think he had ever seen any woman more beautiful than Elizabeth was right now; his feelings for her had never been this strong. He paused to ponder what that meant as Beckett came back into the patient area.

"How are you holding up?" Carson asked gently. "Maybe you should finally let me take care of your hands."

John grunted and looked at his free hand. He'd broken skin on his knuckles when he'd used them to pummel the Keeper. It had given him immense satisfaction when the man's nose had given way under the first blow. 

John slowly extracted his other hand from Elizabeth's grip. Her mouth formed a little moue but she continued to sleep. Carson escorted John to the sink to wash his wounds and then sat him on the empty bed that was next to Elizabeth's. He laid out some bandages and disinfectants and started dressing the injuries.

Carson spoke quietly without looking up from his work. "You did the best you could."

John shifted his weight in misery. "This shouldn't have happened at all. Now she may end up blind, or deaf, or I don't know what."

Carson reached up for a steristrip. "I don't think the blindness is permanent. She was already seeing some shadows before she fell asleep. We'll know more when she wakes up."

He worked in silence for a few more minutes and John finally worked up the courage to ask what he wanted so terribly to know. "Carson. You examined her. Did they rape her?" 

Carson's eyes met his. "First of all, Major Sheppard, that is private medical information I normally would not discuss with anyone without Doctor Weir's consent." He held up a hand to stave off John's protest. "If I were to tell you the results of my examination it might be considered unethical." He reached up to John's shoulder and looked at him intently. He sighed and leaned in to murmur into John's ear. "But I will tell you, off the record, that I found no evidence that there had been any violence of a sexual nature on Elizabeth Weir's person. She wasn't raped, John. Not that I can see." He leaned back and nodded to John. 

John felt a sudden rush of tension flow out of every bone and muscle in his body. "You're sure?" he asked, searching Carson's face. 

Carson smiled in acknowledgement when he saw the relief in John's face. "Like I said, you did the best you could have. You did well." He finished wrapping John's hands and then pressed John back onto the bed. "Now, you are going to get some sleep. Doctor's orders." He looked at John's exhausted face. "Do you want me to give you something to sleep?"

John kicked off his boots, pushed his feet under the covers on the bed and lay down on his side, facing Elizabeth's bed. She looked so peaceful. "I think I can manage." He closed his eyes and drifted into sleep as Beckett lowered the lights and moved away.

*

Elizabeth awakened slowly to the sound of a low buzzing. She felt the cool sheets underneath her, the rough cotton of the coverlet, and the smoothness of the pillowcase beneath her cheek. "Please don't let this be a dream," she prayed silently and slowly blinked her eyes open. She was relieved to find her vision had started to return, much as it had previously. The few lights that she could see in the infirmary were haloed and blurry. The colors were muted and the bright reds of the panels she knew should be present were grey and dull. Her ears were filled with the low hissing and buzzing she had experienced before. She scratched experimentally at her pillowcase and was relieved to hear the faint sound over the ringing in her ears. She rolled over on her side and saw John sleeping on the bed next to hers. His blankets were gathered around his waist, and he was still completely dressed. She surveyed at his mussed hair and rumpled clothes and realized he must have gone to sleep directly without cleaning up. He had stayed at her side from the time they left the jumper until she had fallen asleep.

He had streaks of grime on his face and ear, and she could see the rough outline of a dark "S" on his jacket, along with numerous other streaks and marks on his sleeves and collar. She grimaced, remembering her finger tracking the letters on his chest, realizing the marks were made of her own blood. She looked down at the bandages around her wrists and back up at John's face, recognizing the streaks there as her own blood as well. She felt a little shiver in the pit of her stomach when she recalled the feeling of the stubble on his cheek, the contour of his lower lip and the muscle of his neck.

She gazed at his sleeping face. By god, he was gorgeous. She shivered again thinking of his warm breath on her face as he had pressed his forehead to hers while Beckett had examined her. She smiled. He'd let her preserve her modesty but had stayed with her. She felt foolish for behaving like such a coward when they had left the Keep, but she hadn't been able to see, and had felt terrified not knowing where she was or what was happening. John had been her constant, and she trusted him completely. His presence had allowed her to keep her wits about her, and hopefully some semblance of dignity in front of the other Atlantis personnel.

She didn't want to read too much into his willingness to stay by her side. It was just his way. If you won his trust and loyalty you got it in spades. She remembered the many times he had risked himself to save others. He always said his mandate was to protect, and he would do whatever it took to protect her and all the members of the Atlantis expedition. 

She gazed at his face again, mentally retracing the paths her hands had taken on his face. "Might as well enjoy the view while I can," she thought with resignation. She looked back at his streaked jacket and remembered the way his arms felt around her when he had carried her out of the Keep. He was so strong.

She shuddered as a tremor of desire shot up through her body. She sighed in frustration and mentally slapped herself. Since they'd arrived at Atlantis, there had been so much happening, and she had been so busy, that she hadn't dwelled much on her lack of companionship. Nights were the worst, really, and initially she had spent them missing Simon, but lately she had found John Sheppard making cameos in her dreams. She was attracted to several of the men in the city; she'd even had a few stray thoughts about Rodney here and there. But truth be told, she admitted to herself that there was something special about John that made her shiver deliciously when he was around. 

She had to rein in her emotions. As the commander of the city, she had to maintain distance between herself and her charges. As she gazed at the streaks on John's jacket, she felt herself losing the battle for self-control. "What am I going to do?" she thought bleakly.

*

John opened his mouth to shout, but all he could do was whisper, "No!" as he stretched his hand out to Elizabeth's struggling and bound figure on the floor. He was back in the Keep and she was surrounded by Wraith and the Keeper, who stood over her with an electrified sparking staff thrust into her belly. The Wraith soldiers pressed in and stretched out their hands towards her chest. John wanted to run towards her, but his feet wouldn't move. He looked down and his legs were buried to his knees in the stone of the floor. He looked back up panic-stricken at Elizabeth. The Wraith soldiers dug their hands into her flesh and begin to draw the life energy from her body. She screamed his name and begged for help as her skin began to whiten and shrivel, her face melting into bone. 

John came out of the dream and blinked, trying to get rid of the horrific vision of Elizabeth's death. He looked up to see her lying peacefully on the bed opposite his, her side moving with a steady rise and fall as she breathed. The wash of relief he felt was stopped cold when he saw her large eyes, vacantly open and staring somewhere in the vicinity of his jacket. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but he had hoped from Dr. Beckett's words that Elizabeth would have had her sight back by the time she awakened. The thought of her lying there alone, unable to hear or see, caused a wash of emotion to crash over him. He felt an unwanted rush to his throat and a fullness in his eyes of tears ready to spill. 

"God," he whispered, "I love you, Lizzie. I'm so sorry that..." He broke off when he saw her eyes flick up to meet his. "Elizabeth, can you see me?"

She stared intently into his eyes, face expressionless. 

"Can you hear me?"

After what seemed to him an eternity, she reached out a bandaged hand towards his and said softly, "John?"

He pushed his covers aside and swung his legs over the side of his bed, bending and reaching for her. He grabbed her hand, being careful of her i.v. line. She reached over with her other hand and caressed his, and then looked down at the bandages he wore.

"What happened to your hand, John?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"You should've seen the other guy." He willed her eyes back up to his without success, and then eased himself off his bed and sat on the edge of hers, still clasping her hand. "Elizabeth, can you hear me?" He leaned over her. 

Elizabeth looked up at him, her gaze flitting back and forth between his eyes. She reached up her hand and traced the line of his lower lip with her thumb, and then passed her palm over the side of her face and up to his ear. She looked back into his eyes and smiled. He leaned into her palm and smiled back at her.

"You're going to be okay, Elizabeth, I promise you."

She sobered and looked at him searchingly. "Did you mean what you said?"

"When?" he asked gently, closing his eyes, distracted by the feel of her hand on his face.

She paused. "You said you loved me just now."

His eyes snapped open and met hers. The silence stretched. 

He took a deep breath. "I guess I did say that, didn't I?" He could feel his face harden, and his heart began pounding in his chest. He braced himself for whatever Elizabeth was about to say to let him down easy. He knew she'd never be cruel about it. Hey, just saved her life, right? She'd likely say something about duty, or professionalism, or she'd give some other perfectly compelling reason why he was completely out of line. And he'd have to agree and be utterly miserable.

Instead, Elizabeth snaked her hand up to the nape of his neck and pulled him closer. She hesitated, and then whispered into his ear, and his skin tingled where her breath warmed him. "I love you too, John."

He pulled his head back in surprise, and saw the seriousness in her lovely face. He leaned forward again and pressed his lips to hers, softly, and then suddenly started back up again.

"Really?" he cocked his head and looked down at her suspiciously, feeling a grin begin to creep over his face.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Would I joke around about something like this, Major?"

He did smile then. "No, ma'am, I guess not." He leaned forward, intending to kiss her in earnest when they both heard a loud clatter from around the corner.

John sat up hastily as Carson came around the corner, making all sorts of racket clearing his throat and rattling his data pad around on a tray.

"Good morning to you both!" he said cheerily. "I am glad to see you awake!" He moved in between their two beds and beamed at the both of them. He beamed at Elizabeth, and then beamed at John and then back at Elizabeth. 

They stared back at him and then finally Carson placed his tray on John's bed and smiled benignly down at Elizabeth. "Well, well... Major Sheppard, how is the patient?"

John looked suspiciously up at Carson. He guessed Carson had seen them kiss but he wasn't going to press the issue. He hoped he'd keep his mouth shut, at least until Elizabeth decided what she wanted to do. He'd hate to have to clobber the head physician in the city. "She's doing better."

"Thank you, Doctor Beckett." Elizabeth smiled sweetly up at Carson. "Yes, my vision is starting to return, but everything looks washed out, as if it were in black and white."

Carson pulled a light out of his pocket and swung it between her pupils. He looked at her thoughtfully. "Not surprising. Any blurring?" 

"A bit."

He nodded. "When you got here, you said the vision came back gradually the last two times, was it like this?"

She nodded.

"And the hearing?"

"I hear buzzing, but that happened before too."

He sighed. "Well, I can't be sure, but it sounds like you're on your way to recovery. Hopefully you won't have any residual effects from your ordeal. Now," he turned to look back at John. "You, Major Sheppard, need to go clean up." He turned back to Elizabeth, "You know he stayed at your side this whole time, Doctor Weir, and he refused to leave to go freshen himself, despite the staff's pleas for him to do so." John grimaced. "I think it would have taken an armed escort to get him out of here." Carson shook his head at John. "Don't you have to go to the bathroom or something?"

John rubbed the stubble on his jaw. "Actually, I do sort of have to pee, now that I think about it." He smiled ruefully at Carson and then at Elizabeth.

She laughed. "I am truly honored that you put me before your own bodily functions, Major Sheppard."

"Oh, any time, Doctor Weir."

Carson chuckled. "Doctor Weir, I was going to tell you that Dr. McKay, Lieutenant Ford and Teyla have been quite anxious about you. I sent them away but McKay has been pestering me constantly to come in to see you. Are you up to it?"

She paused and then said, "Yes, I suppose I am."

Carson nodded and stepped back around the corner to fetch Rodney.

John snapped his fingers. "And that is my cue to leave."

She looked up at him anxiously.

"You'll be back?"

He smiled and looked down at his left hand, still grasping hers. He hadn't realized he was still holding it. No wonder Carson had been looking at them so expectantly. He lifted her hand and laid a soft kiss on her knuckles. He reluctantly placed her hand back on her bed.

He chuckled then and made a disgusted face, pulling at his rumpled uniform. "I'd better go wash up. I'm sorry I made you endure my griminess."

"I didn't notice." She looked up at him, her eyes shining.

They heard Rodney coming around the corner. He grinned when he saw Elizabeth. "Ah, Doctor Weir, it is truly good to see you. So, Major Sheppard, how is the wife doing?"

John scrutinized the shiner Rodney was developing under his right eye. Elizabeth had really smacked him. He shook his head in annoyance. "You came all the way down here just to rub that in, didn't you?"

Rodney clasped his hand to his chest. "Me? Most certainly not! I was just coming to inquire after Doctor Weir's condition. Doctor Beckett tells me she is making a fine recovery." He gleamed with satisfaction at the Major and bounced on his toes.

John glanced back at Elizabeth, who was looking at them both with an arched brow. She narrowed her eyes. "What is he talking about?"

"You, Elizabeth, and I'm sure Doctor McKay will be more than happy to tell you the whole story.

Rodney looked John up and down. "Major Sheppard, you look like crap." He grinned. "Also, you smell."

John made a bow with a flourish. "And with that, I am away." He looked back at Elizabeth whose face shone with a relaxed smile that did more for his spirit than anything else had in a long time. He pointed a finger at her. "I'll be back."

He pointed at Rodney. "Don't be a pain."

Rodney's grin widened and he bounced a bit higher. "Me?" 

As John walked away he heard Elizabeth exclaim, "Rodney, what happened to your face?"

"It was all in the line of duty, Elizabeth, nothing to worry about."

John smiled. At least he wouldn't have to clobber Rodney. 

**

It only took John thirty minutes to get cleaned up, but afterwards he was immediately waylaid by aides wanting his advice about one thing or another. It wasn't until two hours later that he finally made his way back to the infirmary. When he got there, he was firmly told to leave by Carson who said that Elizabeth had been besieged by visitors and he wanted her to get some rest. 

"Additionally, Major Sheppard," Carson had looked stern, "Doctor Weir specifically said that you shouldn't sit by her side while she slept, as she felt you would do better to get some rest of your own."

But John was anything but sleepy. He felt as keyed up as he had ever been after hearing Elizabeth's declaration that morning. He didn't like that she didn't want him to be near her. He wanted nothing else. He looked imploringly at Beckett.

"C'mon doc, she'll never know I was there."

Carson had pointed a finger to the door. "I promise to call you when she wakes. Now go take a nap."

John scowled and turned on his heel. But he didn't go to his quarters. Instead he went to his office to try to get some work done. When he got there, there was a note taped to his laptop screen. "I need your report from the mission. Then come help me figure out the schedule for this week. – Dr. Rodney McKay, Acting Commander."

"What the hell?" John wondered reading the note for the third time. "Acting Commander?" Not that he was particularly fond of the kind of administrative work that made up 99% of Elizabeth's duties. Still, he thought with mild resentment, he was the highest ranking ... was that it? She didn't want the military in charge? John frowned, chewing his lip. Why would she give Rodney a title? It didn't make sense. 

He looked at his watch and decided to get started on his report. Rodney called him several times over his communicator with varied minor and annoying problems and finally John just took it out of his ear. "Drunk with power," John thought, shaking his head.

He never liked doing paperwork, but this report was particularly unpleasant to write, especially since he felt the entire mission was spent fixing his mistake, his failure to keep Elizabeth safe. He cheered himself up a bit by making it as colorful as possible, mostly because he knew it would piss off Rodney. He could always fix it and give Elizabeth an edited version later. He had just finished typing, "...Doctor Weir's assailant was neutralized..." and after thinking a moment he added, "...by having the living snot beat out of him..." He smirked and glanced at his watch. It was almost sundown and he hadn't been called by Beckett. He frowned.

Something was up. 

He swung his feet off his desk, placed the laptop back onto its surface, and then made for the infirmary at a jog.

This time Beckett was less stern.

"Look, Major, I'm sorry," Carson said apologetically. "She's asked to be left alone."

John's brow furrowed with worry. "What's goin' on?"

The doctor wrung his hands and looked around behind him. "She can be very persuasive."

John sighed and then pushed past Carson around the corner. He stopped short, and felt his heart skip a beat when he saw both beds empty and neatly made. He had a sudden flashback to his teenage years, when he'd gone to visit his ailing grandfather in the hospital and found the room empty and the bed made. The old man had died during the night. John stared in shock at the plumped pillow and neatly folded sheets of Elizabeth's bed. "Wait a minute, wait a minute," he muttered to himself, rubbing his hands in his hair. "He said she was persuasive. Not dead. Okay... okay." He nodded to himself and turned to walk back to Beckett, who was still wringing his hands.

"Okay, where is she? I thought you wanted to hang onto her a couple of days."

Carson looked at him sadly. "I know you want to be alone with her, Major." He held up his hand. "And, aye, I did see the two of you earlier, but your secret is safe with me, I promise you."

John opened his mouth, and then closed it again. "Thank you, for her sake."

"She just wanted to be out of the spotlight, Major. The whole day has been like a parade. I think everyone in the city tried to get in to see her. I spent more time shooing people out of here than attending to her. So," Carson sighed, "I agreed to let her go back to her room. As far as anyone knows she is still here, but at least she doesn't have to be bothered by the sound of me sending people away."

John felt his temper start to rise. "After what she's been through these last few days, how could you let her go off on her own?"

Carson's apologetic expression vanished, replaced by anger of his own. "I'm not a complete fool, you know. I escorted her to her room myself. No one saw us, and I'll be checking in with her every few hours."

"Every few hours?" John shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

Carson sighed. "As I said, she can be very persuasive."

**  
Ten minutes later, John was standing outside Elizabeth's door. He'd been there for a minute or two now, debating with himself whether to respect Elizabeth's wishes. His hand hesitated in front of the door. He was hurt that she had sent him away and he didn't want to burden her with his own wounded feelings, not after what she'd been through. But his desire to find out whether she was alright overcame his sensibility, and finally he knocked on the door. There was no response. He waited and knocked again, and again. His annoyance turned to worry, and after waiting another minute he took a deep breath and moved to open the door. It was locked. Concern mounting, he overrode the controls and pushed his way into the room.

"Elizabeth?"

The room was dark, but from the light coming through the corridor behind him, he could see a lump on the floor. Elizabeth, in her robe, curled up on her side with her back to him. John's thoughts went automatically to his communicator to call for help, and then cursed as he realized he'd left it in his office. He hurried over to kneel at her side as the door slid shut behind him.

"Elizabeth?"

"Go away, John," she mumbled, pushing his hand away.

"Lights up," John said to the room. He looked down again at Elizabeth. "What's the matter? Let me take you back to the infirmary."

"Doctor Beckett can't help me. Just leave me alone, John, I promise I'll be fine." She had her face hidden by her arm and was huddled in on herself. She plucked at her robe, closing it over her chest. "Just go, please."

"Well that's not gonna happen." He slid an arm under hers and gently rolled her face towards him, her back and shoulders in his lap. She held her forearm over her eyes. "What's goin' on?" He pulled her arm down. "You've been crying."

She kept her eyes closed and turned her face away.

"You shouldn't see me like this."

"Elizabeth, you're scaring me. What do you mean I shouldn't see you like this? What's the matter? Can you see?"

"I just..." she pulled her arm free and slung it back over her face. "It isn't..." She sighed. "I don't feel very professional right now."

John choked. "What?"

"I...just go away, John. I'll be okay in the morning."

John ignored her request. "You're worried about your image? Elizabeth, hello, this is me. You've seen me at my worst – hell, you've seen me dead. You still respect me... it doesn't change anything." He curled his lips. "I mean, I think it doesn't."

She shook her head. "No, of course not. I just... I don't want you to worry. I'll be fine."

"Right."

A long minute passed in silence.

"What happened, Elizabeth. What didn't you tell us?"

"What do you mean?"

He gently pushed her hair off of her forehead and rested his palm against her ear, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He searched in her eyes. "Did they touch you, Elizabeth?"

She pulled her arm away and looked at him with wide green eyes that were reddened and wet with tears. "Well...yes, I mean, you saw,"

He shook his head. "Did they rape you?"

She sucked in her breath. She reached up and stroked his shoulder, studying the way his dark shirt hugged his shoulders. She looked back at him. "No, but... it was close. If you hadn't come when you did..." Her lips trembled.

John felt her shudder and he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to her forehead. "You're safe now."

Her shudders became sobs and she curled her fingers into the thin black fabric of his shirt, pressing her face into his chest. 

John had seen Elizabeth stare down dictators and madmen, human and alien alike. She prided herself on her ability to keep her feelings to herself. He felt he should be honored that she was letting go like this in front of him, but he ached to see her so upset. He let her cry, rocking her back and forth, and murmuring into her hair, fighting back his own tears of regret and anger and anxiety as he held her. Finally, she drew in a long shaky breath and whispered into his shirt. "I'm so sorry."

"You keep saying that. What in the world do you have to be sorry about?"

"Ev..everything," she stammered. "I should have listened to you about taking the jumper." 

"You couldn't have known what would happen. Look, I'm the one who let you down. My job is to keep you safe."

Elizabeth pulled her head back and looked at him. Her lips twitched as she struggled to speak. "This wasn't your fault." After a moment, she looked back down at his shirt, pushed her hair behind her ear and sniffed wetly. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess; I'm making you feel worried and it's not fair to you."

"You're not a mess," he emphasized, nodding in reassurance. "You just went through a really rough situation. You'll be okay. And you'll get back to work, and everything will go back to the way it was." 

"I don't know." She stared down at her hands.

"You're not alone, you know," he said softly.

She was studying his shirt again, lost in thought. She sighed. "I don't know how I can face everyone, especially military people like Ford, or even Teyla. I fear I may have lost their respect."

John laughed out loud. Elizabeth looked up at him in confusion and hurt. He shook his head and stroked her hair.

"You really have no idea what you looked like when we found you?"

She whispered softly, "Are you mocking me?"

He shook his head, smiling, and squeezed her shoulders in reassurance. "Why don't we get off the floor, Doctor Weir, and I will tell you about the most courageous, strong woman I have ever had the honor of rescuing. And I've rescued quite a few."

Before she could answer, he pushed her gently upwards and then rose unsteadily to his feet. He guided her to her bed and pushed her gently back down onto it, arranging her robe chastely over her legs. He sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over her. She was still uncertain, guarded.

He stroked her hair, looking into her fearful eyes with as much earnestness as he could muster. "When I got into that room, what I saw was a woman fighting for her life. Whatever you think happened in that place, you didn't show any weakness." He pulled her hand up and nodded his head towards her bandages. "You made these injuries yourself, because you would rather cut through your own flesh than let someone else use you. I don't know how much you remember, but when we tried to hold you down long enough to get those cuffs off of you, you fought us like a tiger."

"I... I didn't know it was your team. I felt the different hands on me, and I just ..."

"Yeah, it took all four of us to pin you down. And, you were swearing like a Marine."

She smiled bashfully and looked down. "Do marines swear more than airmen, Major?"

"The ones I know do." He gazed at her. Even tousled and streaked and puffy with tears, she still looked angelic. He wanted desperately to kiss her. But she needed his reassurance, and he didn't want to push her. "You know, when we were in the jumper, you were sitting there in your underwear, bloodied and bruised..."

Elizabeth grimaced.

"...and you were completely in charge. When you greeted Beckett, it was like you were back at the U.N." He pressed a finger under her chin and pulled her gaze back up to his own. "No one was laughing at you. No one was concerned you had lost it. We knew you were going to be fine. You will be."

She licked her lip and looked at him thoughtfully. "Thank you."

Another long minute passed. 

John nodded his head towards the floor and asked softly, "Why were you lying on the floor in your robe, Elizabeth?" He leaned close and he could feel her breath on his face. She shifted and he was suddenly painfully aware that Elizabeth was wearing nothing underneath her robe. He felt a stirring of need he wanted desperately to suppress.

"I was tired." She whispered, looking at his mouth. 

"So tired you couldn't make it to the bed?" Now he was painfully aware of her lips, which were full and soft and God-he-should-get-out-of-here-right-now.

Her eyes took in the line of his jaw and strayed back to his mouth. She stammered, "I took a really, really long... hot... shower. I couldn't get clean enough."

He kept gazing down at her lips. They were parted and she licked them again. He inhaled the air around her face. "You smell clean." He couldn't push her. He wouldn't push her.

She looked back up at his eyes, now so close. "You do too." Her breaths were coming in gasps and she glanced back down at his lips.

His nose brushed the tip of hers and he knew he should back off. He wouldn't do this.

Her mouth opened and he could see her tongue roaming over the edges of her teeth. "What are you thinking?" she breathed.

"I'm thinking I'm going to kiss you now," he murmured, moving down towards her. 

So much for self-control.

Elizabeth strained her head upwards to meet John's lips. They were soft and warm, and gentle at first. He kissed her lightly, angling his mouth over hers as their lips met over and over. She felt her passion rise and she wanted more.

She laced her fingers into his hair and pulled his head down to deepen the kiss. She slid the tip of her tongue over his even teeth and then felt his tongue meet her own. She was lost in the kiss and she felt her whole body flush with heat. John shifted and one arm snaked beneath her shoulders and the other... the other hovered over the sheets at her side. After a few moments she pulled away from him and panted, "What's wrong?" 

He opened his eyes slowly and focused breathlessly at her pouting lips. "What?" 

She looked at the hand, hovering six inches above the bed.

"Oh," he looked at his hand and shrugged. "It doesn't know where to go."

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Okay, it knows where to go," he admitted sheepishly. "But, I don't want to push you into this. You've been through a lot in the last –"

"You just said you still trust my judgment."

"Well, of course, but..."

"So trust my judgment."

He looked carefully at her. "You sure?"

She pursed her lips. "Do you want me to order you to touch me?"

He grinned. "I like the sound of that." He bent down again, slanted his lips across hers, and slid his free hand into the neck of her robe. He caressed her neck and skimmed down under the silky fabric to cup her breast, grazing its tip with his thumb, feeling it harden as he swallowed her moan. Her back arched as he deepened the kiss, and he felt her thighs twist beside him. 

Elizabeth hands moved from John's neck and over his shoulders. She shuddered as she felt the muscles of his back tightening under the thin fabric of his shirt as he moved. It felt like an eternity since she had been with a man, and the feel of his strength made her passion flare that much hotter. He pulled away from the kiss and her momentary disappointment was replaced by shivers of desire as he bent his lips to her neck and began nipping at the flesh under her jaw. She moaned, pulling at his shirt. "Take this off," she breathed.

He grunted, but instead of complying, he grazed the side of her neck with his teeth, parting her robe wider to give his mouth room to work. His tongue trailed down her collarbone and he latched on to her breast, nipping and licking at it. She pulled at the fabric of his shirt and managed to slide it up under his arms, freeing the firm skin of his back for her to explore.

He tugged at her robe and opened it wide, bowing his head deeper to nuzzle her breasts and trail his mouth along the curve of her ribs.

She shivered in anticipation of where he was heading but she was too wound up to wait. She wanted desperately to feel the skin of his chest against her own.

"John"

"Mmmph," he mumbled, grazing his lower teeth over her solar plexus.

"John, I want you inside me."

His head popped up to look at her. She was gazing at him intently. He tried to slow down his own pulse but he could smell her arousal. "Elizabeth, I don't want to rush things with you."

"I'm not rushing. This is something I've wanted for a long time."

He narrowed his eyes at her. He knew she was in emotional pain and didn't want to take advantage of her. On the other hand... he gave her a mischievous smile. "I want to taste you first." 

Elizabeth felt the edge of an orgasm wash against her just from hearing the words. "I..." 

John grinned when he saw her eyes roll back momentarily. "Like that idea, do you?"

"I..."

"Besides," he sighed, "I didn't exactly bring protection with me." He bent his head down to rub his forehead on her belly.

"You don't need it."

John sighed and straightened up on his arms to look at her doubtfully. "Don't you think folks will start to suspect something is up when you show up six months pregnant to the staff meetings?" His gaze lowered to her breasts and he lingered over them in appreciation. "You have really nice breasts." He lowered his head again to press his face into them.

"I... uh," she was finding it hard to think, because of the view of John leaning over her body and the fluttering sensations that were playing over her skin as he flicked her with his tongue. She fought to speak. "John, I have an implant. Birth control. I've had it since before we left Earth." Her thoughts cleared a bit. "And I've seen your medical records. I know we're both healthy."

John's brain suddenly caught up with her explanation and he had a prescient image of her body writhing under his as he pounded into her. He looked up at her speculatively and recognized her need in her flushed and expectant face. He made the decision. "Hold on," he said to her, eyes glittering. "Lights down," he said to the room and began stripping off his clothing. 

Elizabeth had never seen anyone get naked so fast in her life. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light she gazed appreciatively over John's lithe form, his muscled torso and, she thought shyly, well-proportioned masculinity. He moved towards the bed. She scooted over and he lay down beside her, stretching out his long body, curling his toes to touch her own. She loved the feeling of a tall man next to her in bed. It had been too long.

He lay motionless, propped up on his elbow, looking at her with passion. His eyes were smoky as he murmured, "Ready for my orders, ma'am."

She rolled onto her side to face him and met his gaze. The two stared into one another's souls for a long moment. Elizabeth smiled tenderly. "I'm sure you know what's best, Major."

"I do love you, you know."

"I love you too."

He reached over and pushed her robe away from her body, and helped her shrug out of the sleeves. As her arms slipped free, he winced at the sight of the clusters of bruises and welts on her upper arms and shoulder. He bent to kiss her arm and shoulder lightly. 

"I hate that this happened to you," he murmured. Elizabeth said nothing, only shivering with anticipation and the feel of his lips on her skin. He ran his hand up and down the length of her torso, savoring the way his hand dipped into the curve of her waist. 

"You are so beautiful," he whispered.

"So are you," she said softly, and reached her arms out to pull him down into another kiss. He rolled towards her and the skin of their bodies touched, feeding their desire. Elizabeth felt her body jerk in reaction as she felt his erection press against her thigh. Her hand drifted down his side, basking in the feel of the skin of his back, waist and then his hip. She trembled, hesitated briefly, and then slipped her hand between their bodies to grasp his length in her hand. 

He shuddered and gasped, his entire body going rigid. He knew he wouldn't last thirty seconds if he let her touch him, and if he was going to do this, he wanted to try to make the encounter last. He gently pulled her hand away and murmured with mock disapproval, "Now, now, not so fast. I called dibs first." He kissed her again, and then draped his arm over her torso as he nuzzled his way down her body, feeling her hands move restlessly over his head and shoulders.

She hissed as she felt his tongue begin to slide lazily over her core, and then purred as it moved faster, teasing her with rapid, feather strokes. She tried to suppress the moan that erupted as she felt him slide one, and then two long fingers inside of her. John sped up the caresses of his tongue and his hand and it seemed only moments before she shot to her peak, crying out and gripping his shoulders. She was still shuddering when she felt John move up over her body, resting his weight on top of her. When she felt his erection poised to enter, she clasped his back and pressed him closer. He entered her with a groan of pleasure, but then paused, relishing the sensation of being sheathed completely inside of her, whispering, "God, you're so tight, Lizzie." 

He began to slowly move in and out of her, drowning her gasps with his kisses. She quaked as she tasted herself on his tongue and she wrapped her legs around his back, arching herself upwards, willing him to go deeper. She felt his hardness begin to swell impossibly inside of her and she broke away from his lips, hugging her face into his neck and latching onto his collarbone with her mouth as she gripped his body tighter. He began to growl in anticipation with each thrust. The sensation was too much to bear and she came again, her body rhythmically rippling in contractions around him. He gripped her back with one arm, braced with the other and pounded into her, roaring with his own climax, burying himself as deeply as he could into her body.

As Elizabeth felt the tremors of their lovemaking fade, she played her hands over John's back and ruffled his hair, enjoying the feeling of his weight on her body. He lay with his face buried in the pillow beside her head and she kissed his neck softly. "Uh," he grunted, making a token effort to roll off of her, and then pressing her back down.

"Uh," she agreed. She basked in the smell of his body, the taste of his skin and the feeling of his shoulders against her hands. She slid her hands around him and hugged him.

John roused himself and rolled to his side, taking her with him in his embrace. As they settled he caressed her shoulder thoughtfully and smiled. "Remind me again why we didn't do this a long time ago?"

She ran her fingers over his temple. "I can't remember."

His face darkened as he smoothed his hand over her arm.

"What?" she pressed.

He nodded at her bruises again and looked at her in concern. "Did I hurt you just now?"

She shook her head gently.

He searched her eyes, and pushed her hair away from her face. "You wouldn't tell me if I did."

Her smile widened and she shook her head again.

"This is why I don't play cards with you."

"You are a very wise man."

He paused and looked at her sidelong. "You didn't say anything when I called you 'Lizzie'."

She raised a brow.

"It's just...what I sometimes call you in my head. No disrespect meant."

"Hmm," she replied, pensive.

She traced her finger over his cheek and around the edge of his ear. He rolled his eyes. "Okay, I get it, I have weird ears."

She bit her lip. "I think they're sexy. Exotic." 

"I'm like a freakin' elf."

She chuckled. "No you aren't." 

His teeth flashed. "You're the boss."

"No, I really like them." She blushed, suddenly shy again. "That's how I recognized you back at the keep. I'd imagined what they would feel like."

"That's kind of weird." Elizabeth glanced up sharply and John's eyes twinkled in amusement. Her expression relaxed and she resumed her exploration of his ear with her hand. He pulled his head back to study her, suddenly speculative. "Why'd you tell Beckett to send me away today, really?"

"I didn't tell him to send you away." She shifted and began lazily drawing her foot up and down his lower leg. "I told him to send everyone away."

John chewed his lip and tilted his head slightly. "And Rodney?"

She glided her hand down from his ear to his lower lip, where she traced its fullness with her thumb. "He was telling me quite a story, no detail left unmentioned." She looked at John merrily and he rolled his eyes. "The only way I could get rid of him was to put him in charge of Atlantis until I got back, hopefully tomorrow or the next day."

"He's drunk with power."

"I would expect nothing less." She sobered and brushed his lips with her own. "I didn't send you away, John. I was going to call you once I pulled myself together. It just... took a little longer than I thought it would."

His brow furrowed again, and he lightly caressed her shoulder. "You don't have to do that for me. Pull yourself together."

She kissed him deeply, sinking into the fullness of his lips. He drew back after a moment, grinning again.

"You know," he said, "Just now... that was a little quick for me. I mean, it's been a while since...well, you know."

She nodded, smiling, "I understand."

"So," he rolled back over her. "I am thinking I am ready for another attempt."

She grinned back at him. "Show me what you've got."

**

Two days later, John studied Elizabeth as she walked stiffly into the conference room. She sat down in her usual spot, and folded her hands in front of her. He could see the wounds around her wrists, bruised but healing over, peeking from beneath her jacket sleeve. Elizabeth surveyed the group seated around the table, all business.

"Alright," she said, "bring me up to speed."

As Rodney launched into a litany of changes he had made in her absence, as he put it, "to enhance efficiency," John rolled his eyes and thought how glad he was to have Elizabeth back in charge. He glanced at her and thought of the way she looked when she was flushed with desire. She had been passionate last night and he savored the memory of her body moving over his.

But now she was looking at Rodney, calmly nodding at the expected places, being appropriately attentive. She hadn't even lost her temper when yesterday she'd found he'd reorganized her desk. She told John that she had just quietly moved things back in place, thanked Rodney for his help and told him she had her own system. 

"She's good," he thought, and realized that if anyone was going to give away the fact that the two of them were sleeping together, it wouldn't be her. He would have to be really careful. They had agreed that they would go on as before, and maintain as discreet a relationship as possible for as long as possible. They knew it was only a matter of time before the Wraith arrived on their doorstep, and Elizabeth didn't want people second-guessing any decisions she made concerning John and his team.

It would take time for her to deal completely with her kidnapping, but he would help her through it. He was gratified to see she hadn't lost her nerve for the job, which he knew she loved. Maybe his support would help her put on the daily show for the rest of the people in Atlantis.

He studied her face, impassive and in control, giving direction to the staff, and decided even a small portion of her time was worth everything to him.

"Major Sheppard."

He straightened up. "Doctor Weir?"

"I need you to take your team to see if these people would be willing to trade for their copper reserves. It sounds like Doctor Zelenka will need a larger amount if he is to get his project finished."

"Got it."

She nodded and looked back to the scientist.

John smirked in quiet amusement. "Oh yeah, she's good," he thought. But when he got back from this mission he would be sure to push past the cool façade. He thought of the way her eyes glittered when she was aroused. Suddenly the threat of the Wraith and the daily perils he and his team endured didn't seem so terrible, now that he had something sweet to come back to at the end of the day. "Well, Doctor Weir," he thought with satisfaction, "welcome home."

 

*END*


End file.
